1. Gay Interracial


    Date: 10/9/2016, Categories: Dark Fantasy, Author: RBBL91, Rating: 50, Source: sexstories.com

    I would up walking him. Then Kyle came up, and there was lots of yelling from their bench. He stood in the box and I studied him a moment. He had big cheekbones and long, full lips that were fringed with a hint of a mustache. I knew he could hit from the way he stood at the plate; he had that balance of tension and relaxation that can't be taught. "This one's easy Kyle," the man with the dreadlocks said. "No problem at all!" My father stared onto the field, uncertain. I started him off with my best, I wound and fired the ball using everything in my shoulder and back. I wanted this to be good. It was, but not nearly good enough. I heard the crack before my motion was even finished. He hit a rifle shot between center and left, far over both fielders' heads. Far enough far him to kick back and ease up his run as he rounded second. I was red faced as he did an exultant dance as he rounded third. His teammates waited at the plate. High fives and shouts. "That's it! You baaaaad!" his father said. Before Kyle got to the bench he turned and faced me, smiling as he pointed to me. I got you, man. The rest of the inning was a horror. More runs than I'd ever given up. And with each run the other team grew more cocky, more arrogant. They started clowning around on the bases. When they were up by six runs, they started walking off the bases, daring us to try and pick them off, and when we did they'd take off for the next base like jaguars. Two kids walked themselves into a rundown, and ...
    then ran quickly enough to run out of it. Their bench though this was hilarious. When we got back to our bench, we were silent. We thought we were good, but it took just a half inning with these kids to know better. "We'll get them back," Mr. Puglisi said to a very quiet bench. And then Kyle walked out on the mound. We knew we were in for it with the first warmup pitch. He started with a little jerky motion, and then released the ball like a slingshot. "Shit!" a kid next to me muttered. I had never seen anyone throw that hard, and the amazing thing was that aside from the initial little jerks in his windup, his throwing seemed effortless -- as if he wasn't even trying. I was the third batter up. The first few batters had done nothing: they backed away from strikes, and swung weakly when they were down two strikes. I was determined to get him back for his homer. When he coiled into his windup, I was ready, I set myself according to the release point I picked up while I was watching from on deck. But I was closer now, and when he released the ball I was astonished at what I saw. It had liveliness, a hop, that you couldn't appreciate unless you were right there, in the box. Before I could even think of swinging, the ball whizzed past me for a strike. His father roared. "Yeah, that's it. Show him what uptown boys are like!" Jesus. I turned and look back. His father was smiling, grinning over at my father. "He's somethin' else, huh?" My father had stepped away from his usual spot, he ...
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